Chances
by WritingForHugs
Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little honesty and a little bravery. Everlark. AU. One shot to get me back into the swing of things. R&R! *Mentions of alcohol/drugs.


**A/N: I've spent way too much time away from writing, but now (I hope) that I'm back. I hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

"Katniss," Haymitch's voice was solemn. Tired. Katniss stared at the carpet with glassy eyes. "Katniss, I know you can hear me." Her uncle never called her by her real name. It was always some nickname or whatever he could dredge up through his alcohol-drowned mind. Now he was serious.

Haymitch had long been a functioning alcoholic. His wife had died during childbirth along with their unborn daughter many years ago, which was why Haymitch took such good care of his nieces after their parents died. Prim and Katniss were like replacement daughters, yet he still couldn't quite pull himself away from the bottle. Katniss didn't blame him. She understood now, more than ever, why drinking was so appealing. Why people turned to drugs. Why people tried to block out the pain with some sort of substance. She wondered if she would reach that point and how long it would take to get there.

Haymitch cleared his throat from where he stood by the doorway. "You need to eat something. And have a shower. It smells like… like-"

"Like death?" Katniss mumbled, her throat dry and scratchy from disuse.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," the older man scoffed.

"Go away. Close the door."

"No."

"Go. Away," she repeated stonily, before rolling over and pulling the duvet over her head. The darkness was calming. The suffocating feeling of the heavy material was almost kind. She still pulled the blankets away so that she could breathe, however, her body's instincts overriding her heartache no matter how encompassing it was.

"Sweetheart, don't push _me_ away, of all people. Your parents wouldn't want this, and neither would Prim."

"Bullshit."

"It's funny that you're still able to swear like a godamn sailor, but that you can't drag yourself downstairs and try to eat."

"My entire family is gone," she sneered from the bed. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. Get up."

"Piss off, old man."

"Fine. But don't forget that I'm still your uncle, and that I've lost family too," he snapped, turning and walking away, leaving her bedroom door open on purpose, allowing light to stream into the dark cocoon his niece had built. She felt a ribbon of guilt curl through her for a split second. She was being selfish and she knew it but she didn't care.

She held out her middle finger in his direction before curling up again, clutching her sister's childhood teddy bear to her chest. She could still smell her perfume, hear the melody of her laughter.

* * *

The Everdeen sisters were orphaned when the eldest was almost eleven and the youngest was eight. Dahlia and Lowell were involved in a car accident on their first night out together since their youngest had been born. It was supposed to be a happy night. A night away from the kids to spend some much-needed time together as husband and wife. Tragedy, as it often did, struck without warning. The young daughters of the deceased were taken in by their only living relative, Mr Haymitch Abernathy of Seam Street.

Katniss was eighteen now, an adult, and instead of celebrating this fact and the end of her school career with her peers, she was mourning the loss of her sister, who had been killed in a car crash also. She suspected if there was some sort of curse running through her family. It sure seemed like there was. It was only a matter of time before she stepped in front of a semi hidden in her blind spot and joined her family, and tragedy's work would be done.

Prim was way too young to die. She was fourteen. Her birthday presents had been opened mere days before and there was still leftover cake in the fridge, streamers tacked to the walls. Katniss blamed herself for her death even though everyone assured her that it wasn't her fault. On that fateful day, Prim had been at a friend's house to study and had promised to be home by eight. Her sister had fallen asleep in front of the TV waiting for her sibling to arrive, and was woken by a knock on the door.

"Miss, is there a parent at home that we can speak with?" the cop had asked, removing his hat from his head.

"They're both dead," she had answered. The cops exchanged glances.

"Err… a guardian, maybe?"

"He's at work. What's going on?" she had narrowed her eyes, only just catching herself on the doorknob as her whole world collapsed around her.

When Katniss failed to collect her, Primrose Everdeen started the short walk home through the well-lit suburban streets as it started to rain. Mr Mellark, the owner of the local bakery, had seen her and offered to give her a ride home. Everyone knew Mr Mellark and Katniss knew he was a good man. Prim was right to trust his offer.

They had been just five blocks from Haymitch's home when a mixture of the slippery roads and traffic had resulted in a head-on collision which had killed both Prim and Mr Mellark instantly.

* * *

Another two weeks passed, and Katniss was only marginally better. At least she had showered and joined Haymitch for a meal in the evenings. He didn't care that she didn't say anything and picked at her food, because she was moving and taking care of herself. That was more than he can say he did when Maysilee died.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to hide his surprise. Katniss pulled open the fridge door and drank straight from the juice carton, shrugging her shoulders, and he eyed the short shorts she was wearing, the tank top that showed off her olive skin and lacy bra. The combat boots and eye makeup. It was a complete 180 from the heavy sweatpants and stained t-shirts he'd become accustomed to. Even before Prim had passed she never dressed like this. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was rebelling.

"Sweetheart, just tell me," he told her. "It's not like I'm going to be able to stop you. You're an adult and you're fully able to make your own stupid decisions."

Her eyebrows quirked. "There's a party."

"Where? Whose is it?"

"Just across town. Cato Matthews."

"Be careful," he warned, staring down at the crossword on the newspaper. Katniss yanked her bag over her shoulder and slid her phone into her pocket, before checking her reflection in the mirror above the pegs that held their keys. That was another thing. She was checking her appearance more often.

"Whatever. Maybe tonight I'll literally be hit with the curse," she muttered, waltzing out of the kitchen.

Haymitch looked up from his paper and frowned. "Hey, come back here a minute will you?"

She groaned and reappeared. "What?"

"Don't talk like that, okay? I know this has been tough on you, it's been tough on a heck of a load of other people as well. Stop this aloof attitude you've suddenly adopted."

"I'm not aloof."

"Yes you are. You're acting like you're the only one who's been affected when you know damn well that that isn't true," he fixed her with a look and she grimaced. "Have you even spoken to the Mellarks recently?"

"No. They hate me," she said with a raise of her eyebrows. Haymitch shook his head and looked back down at the crossword. The front door slammed shut and he dropped the newspaper, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He loved her, but Katniss Everdeen was one hell of a nightmare sometimes.

During the first month, she had become something of a recluse. She sat at home sleeping for hours and hours, doing nothing but visiting the bathroom and picking at the meals Haymitch brought up, before falling back into unconsciousness and letting the food go cold. He won't admit it because he's pretty sure she already knows, but he spent a long time terrified that he'd come home one day and find her passed out in the bathroom with a stomach filled with pills and finally, _finally_, he'd be completely alone.

What he didn't know was that she combed through Facebook under the darkness of her room and found the well-meaning messages left on Prim's wall. She saw how people had paid their respects and moved on. She found the messages on Peeta's wall as well, but his lack of online presence was painfully obvious. His last tweet had been on the day of his father's death, replying to his brother about meeting up during the upcoming break. He didn't use Facebook very much. His last Instagram post was a picture of him and a group of friends at a music festival as part of #TBT.

She found inner strength from somewhere deep inside her soul as time went by. One day she found Haymitch crying as he attempted to start clearing Prim's room. She had never seen the man cry, and the silent tears that rolled down his unshaven cheeks pulled her out of her stupor a little more. She really did like Haymitch despite his brusque ways. They were more alike than they realised. They helped organize her room together. Sentimental items were locked away, and the rest was given to those in need. _'It's what Prim would've wanted.' _

It took days before she could face the outside world again, yet just minutes after she had gone outside to water the primroses in their front yard, reminding herself that _baby steps _were the key, Delly Cartwright appeared with a Dalmatian puppy almost as happy a she was.

"Katniss! Hi!" she had cried from across the street, her smile stretching from ear to ear. She darted forward, her dress billowing, and Katniss only just managed to fight off the impending hug. "How are you? Oh, and your uncle? Did you get the casserole we left for you?"

Katniss had spent a painful five minutes 'chatting' with the cheerful girl before she made up an excuse and fled inside like her ass was on fire. Haymitch had laughed for a solid ten minutes at her expression.

And now, three months after her sister was ripped from life, she felt considerably stronger. And when Johanna had informed her of a party that was taking place across town, she had surprised both herself and her friend by saying yes.

"Brainless, you're gonna shock everyone by turning up. I think everyone thought you were dead or something," the spikey-haired girl commented, unwrapping a rectangle of gum and popping it into her mouth.

"Well, don't we all like surprises?"

Johanna smacked her gum and raised an eyebrow. Her friend had always been a little volatile, and her agreement to come to the party had taken a good hour to comprehend when the text came through. "You hate surprises."

"I'm not the one being surprised."

"But you're sure, right? You are gonna go?" she asked. Katniss nodded. "Everyone is gonna be there, just to warn you."

"Go big or go home, I guess," she mumbled, twisting her fingers together.

* * *

Katniss rolled down the window and inhaled the fresh night air. Darius grumbled from the opposite side of the back seat, taking a drag of his cigarette and rubbing his bare arms and Madge texted furiously beside him, her thumbs moving over the screen on her iPhone so fast they blurred. Gale nudged Katniss' arm and grinned, his grey eyes flashing.

"I'm glad you're coming tonight. Prim wouldn't have wanted you to reduce your party lifestyle any further."

"Prim also wouldn't have wanted you to be a jerk about my social life," she retorted, ignoring the way her stomach rolled at her sister's name.

"She would've laughed and you know it."

"Yeah, she would've," she rolled her eyes. Gale chuckled, and she stared out the window, counting the streetlamps they passed.

* * *

The party was loud. You could hear the thumping bass as you turned onto the street. Katniss swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts.

"You'll be fine, Catnip," Gale reassured her.

"And you have us lot to back you up if someone tries to fuck with you," Johanna added.

"Come to me first, though, okay?" Madge said. "We all know how these three get when they're drunk and/or high." She gestured to Johanna, Gale and Darius in turn and Katniss laughed, her nerves beginning to get the better of her.

"As if you're any better, Madge."

Johanna parked a few houses away, and Katniss shook out her hands as they walked. _It's just a party. You'll be fine. This will be good for you. Maybe you need to get drunk and just let loose. _She followed Johanna up the path to the house, and Gale squeezed her shoulder, ducking his head slightly to get through the door.

What hit her first was the heat, and then the smell inside the expansive colonial house. It was a mixture of sweat, cologne, alcohol, and what she suspected was weed. The bodies inside were packed in like sardines, a writhing mass that she had to fight through. She didn't miss the stares and double-takes and the whispers that followed her. She just swallowed down her fear and her pride and gulped down the contents of the first solo cup that was passed her way.

Two hours in, and she was more than a little drunk. She was currently sat beside Madge on a couch in the den, giggling hysterically at a joke she didn't actually understand but for some reason was hilarious. Every time their laughter began to trail off, Madge would snort and they would be launched into another laughing fit, grasping at each other and gasping for breath. There had been plenty of people grabbing and hugging her since she arrived and telling her that they were _like totally sorry _for her loss. She just took it in her stride, enjoying the feeling of her anxiety flowing away with her drink. She hadn't felt this free for a long time.

Darius and Johanna were making out in the corner, higher than Katniss had ever seen them, and Gale had disappeared somewhere. She was sure she could hear his rowdy shouts from somewhere even over the pounding music. He was most likely playing beer pong and a long way from sober.

The feeling of all her inhibitions sliding away left her feeling light and airy, so when she was offered a small blue pill from a face she didn't quite recognise who promised that it would wear off in a few hours, she joined in with the large group of participating people and swallowed it down without much thought. Pretty soon the room began to sway ever so slightly and all the colours in the room seemed brighter. Not enough to make her nauseous, but enough to make walking just a little bit difficult. She grabbed her empty cup, and left the room, feeling the music thrumming through her.

The game of beer pong was still going, though Gale was nowhere to be seen, and the music wasn't getting any quieter. Katniss filled her cup again and laughed when the liquid spilled over onto her hand.

"Whoopsies," she chuckled, wiping her hand on her skirt and sipping her drink so that it wouldn't spill over anymore before joining the crowd of people dancing. She found Marvel Hayes and Darius smoking in the hallway and turned the other way, trying to find Madge like the blonde girl advised her before they arrived, but instead her face hit a broad chest.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," she said, bracing herself on the wall and staring at the shirt that covered the broad chest she collided with.

"No, don't worry about it," the person replied. Katniss looked up.

Oh, _shit. _

"Peeta!" she exclaimed, her voice sounding cheerful even though she was wishing that the ground could swallow her up. Whatever that pill was had messed with her head.

"Katniss, how are you?" Peeta asked. Katniss stared at him, shaking her head slowly. She didn't know _he _was going to be here. She guessed she should've expected it really. She shouldn't even be surprised. Of course he would be here. He probably got over himself months ago. He had always been a social figure, with an ability to be friends with everyone.

But now, with his blue eyes slightly hazy and a red solo cup in hand and his broad shoulders towering and his smile crooked, she can't face him. She should apologise. She should say _something_ instead of just standing there, swaying slightly, staring at him like he's got a second head growing out of the side of his neck. She chickens out and runs, leaving him standing by himself. She hides in the pantry, sliding down the wall to the floor and holding her throbbing head in her hands. Why does he have to be here? Why tonight? And why did she have to bump into him of all people?She pulls a packet of Oreos off the shelf, assuming that Cato won't mind, and eats them, her mind working in overdrive.

She hasn't seen a single member of the Mellark family since before the accident. She feels responsible for the kindly baker's death, because if she had stayed awake instead of letting the fourteen-year-old walk home, none of this would've happened. No one would be dead, and an invisible wedge wouldn't have been driven even further between her and Peeta.

They had run in similar circles for years, thought they had never be exactly close friends. He was from the richer part of town, which although wasn't saying much, it meant that they didn't hang out as often as she did with Gale and Johanna and Madge and Darius, and he did with Delly and Marvel and Cato and Glimmer.

They used to be good friends in elementary school through kindergarten and third grade, but drifted apart pretty quickly and never really reconnected. Katniss doesn't know if she regrets that decision or not. It doesn't help that he's devastatingly handsome. And kind. And thoughtful. He's an all-round good person with a jawline that could easily grace billboards up and down the country.

She holds her head in her hands. All the colours are beginning to fade now, but her mind is still working at a furious pace. She hates that she isn't friendlier like her sister had been. Her head spins, the mixture of alcohol and loud music and an unidentified drug making her feel dizzy.

"Katniss?" She looks up at her name being called, and finds Peeta standing in the doorway. "Can we please talk?" he asks, his eyes solemn. She doesn't reply, munching on her Oreo in silence, staring down at the thick carpet beneath her. Peeta closes the door behind him and sits opposite her, resting his head back on the pantry wall. They don't say a thing for a while, just sitting there while the party rages on around them.

"Oreo?" Katniss offers, handing over one of the biscuits.

"Thanks," Peeta chuckles, fishing one from the packet, twisting the biscuit and licking the icing. "I feel like a kid again when I eat these."

"Isn't that the idea?"

"Probably. It's all just a marketing ploy."

They eat in silence, and Katniss nudges the snack box over so that it sits in between the two of them. Peeta takes another biscuit.

"We need milk with these. It's not the same otherwise."

"Marketing ploy yet again," he says. Katniss smiles, her gaze flickering up to meet his for a split second. She brushes the crumbs off her hands and wipes her hands on her shorts.

"I'm sorry about your Dad," she whispers. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room feels a lot different. "It's my fault they both died. And your dad was a brilliant man, Peeta."

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened," he says softly. Katniss runs her fingers through the carpet fibres.

"I would've picked her up, though, if only I hadn't fallen asleep. I would've picked my sister up and then your dad wouldn't have had to cross that intersection in the rain. He could've gone straight home and he'd still be here and Prim would still be here."

"It's not your fault," he repeats softly.

"It is."

"Katniss, it isn't. My Dad is just too kind for his own good."

"So are you," she scowled. Peeta stared at her. "You're exactly like your Dad. I can't believe you don't want to kill me."

"I don't think either of us need any more death in our lives," he said wryly, and she rolls her eyes, running a hand through her hair. "You look really pretty tonight," he says, and her hand stills.

"I have stains on my shirt and smell like weed," she deadpans, before starting to laugh. Peeta frowns for a second before laughing along with her, and she likes the butterflies in her stomach at the sound of his voice rumbling through her.

"That doesn't matter. You still look pretty. You always do," he says. Katniss feels her cheeks beginning to burn.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she offers.

"I remember when we were friends back in elementary school. We used to do finger paintings together."

"I was never any good at them- especially compared to the miniature Monet sat next to me," she says. "I can distinctly remember Miss Trinket pinning your paintings on the wall and saying how brilliant they were and just patting me on the head like I was a dog and saying '_good job Kitty'_ in that patronising voice."

"And you always scowled," Peeta laughed. Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. "Just like that!" Katniss tries to force the scowl from her face but it won't budge. Peeta just laughs even more, clapping his hand on his thigh, his eye crinkling at the corners. His laughter is so infectious that she can't help but join in again.

"I wish we had stayed best friends," he murmurs once their laughter has died down, and she's surprised at the heaviness she feels in her chest, dragging her heart down.

"Can we be friends again?" she asks, her voice quiet, almost dreading the answer.

"I thought we've always be friends. Just from afar."

"From afar?"

"Well, we hung out sometimes and got on just fine then. I think we could be friends again, though," he says. "Best friends."

"Gale might get jealous."

"Yet he's sucking face with Madge most of the time."

"You noticed?"

"He's like a fucking hoover."

"He kissed me once. When we were thirteen and oh-so innocent," Katniss remarks, biting her lip. Something akin to amusement crosses Peeta's face and she stares at him, trying to figure out the blond who has suddenly wormed his way back into her life.

"What was it like?" he asks.

"Like a hoover," she grimaces. "It was a pretty shit first kiss."

"I was your first kiss."

"Wait- what?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, sitting upright. "In second grade! We had a parents day, and saw some of the Moms and Dads kissing, and you said that you thought I was gross and I said that it was something only adults did, and you said-"

"-that I didn't think it was fair for us not to be allowed to do something," Katniss muses, her cheeks reddening even though it's an innocent memory. "I remember now."

He nudges her with his elbow. "How was I?"

"At kissing?" she asks incredulously, her eyes wide. "I don't know! You were okay, I guess. Not that I can remember."

"Oh, I'm touched," he says sarcastically, placing his hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

"I'm drunk, okay?" she amends, kicking his knee lightly. He grabs her ankle and electricity shoots up to her spine. "And someone gave me some pill a few hours ago. I don't know what it was but it's probably wearing off… so I can't really use that as an excuse." For a split second he looks concerned, and she shrugs her shoulders, looking down at his hand. She tries to pull her leg back, but he keeps a firm hold on it, his fingers wrapped firmly around her ankle, and her bare skin burns beneath his touch. Their eyes lock onto one another –silver against blue- and she stiffens when his hand travels a little further up her leg, caressing her calf. She wonders how far he will go, who will be the first to stop this nonsense, _if _one of them will stop it. His eyes seems darker all of a sudden, and Katniss feels her stomach tighten under his gaze.

"My Dad, he- he told me that I should always tell the truth," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing back and forth over her leg. "And I'd hate to dishonour what he lived by. That honesty was the best policy."

"Why? What do you want to say?"

He chews on his bottom lip anxiously. "I really like you, Katniss. I have for such a long time, and I was always afraid to tell you. And when my father died, I was afraid that we'd never speak again," he pauses, looking up at her. "I thought I'd lost my chance."

Katniss exhales, her head feeling light and airy, and she doesn't think it's from the drink or the drugs. Peeta is staring at her looking so raw and vulnerable and she's just sitting there, with Oreo crumbs on her lip, being wholly unhelpful. He's just opened up to her and the least she can do is say something nice back, but her heart is pounding so hard that she thinks it's going to crack her ribs and her tongue isn't listening to her brain and she doesn't know what to say.

"Prim said I was too uptight about everything," she forces out, almost choking on _Prim. _

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I need to take more chances," she breathes, moving forward and reaching for him, attempting to pull him towards her with a hand on his shirt. She's pretty sure the alcohol is talking at this point, but she still leans forward, fixated on his lips.

"Here's to taking chances," he finally says, his voice throaty and low, before he leans forward to close the gap she's been trying to close and captures her lips with his. Katniss scrabbles at the front of his shirt, using it as leverage to pull herself closer to him. Peeta is still sat cross-legged while she kneels, and his hands anchor themselves on her body, securing her to him and not planning to let her go.

Katniss feels like she's on fire. Peeta's mouth is making her body turn to jelly and every stroke of his tongue against hers replaces the alcohol-induced haze with one completely different, one she's glad to get lost in. She pulls away first, pressing her forehead to his. She closes her eyes and listens to the sound of the two of them panting. His mouth presses against hers again, and she pulls him back, coxing him to hover over her. She pushes the empty Oreo packet away and parts her legs, gasping when he drops between them.

He's hard already and Katniss slides her hands under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his lower back shift and tighten with every movement. Peeta groans, kissing down her neck and she moans at the feeling, before remembering that they're currently sat in the pantry of Cato's house and that getting carried away – as easy as it could be – is only going to end with someone barging in and finding them amongst Oreo wrappers.

"Peeta," she gasps when his fingers trace the exposed skin between the bottom of her shirt and her shorts where they've moved in opposite directions.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, moving away, his ears turning red, his erection very obvious.

"Don't be. I just- I don't want to have sex with you in Cato Matthew's pantry," she blushes and Peeta pushes himself upwards a little more with a smirk.

"Who said anything about sex?" he asks teasingly, and she shoves him a little.

Once their heart rates slow, Katniss yawns, rolling over and laying her head on his chest, over his heart, inhaling his scent and listening to the steady beat of his heart, so alive and warm. She feels exhausted. The mixture of the stress of the first party she's been to in months, mixed with all this with Peeta has robbed her of all her energy. All she wants now is to curl up in her bed and sleep, but she supposes that Peeta's warmth and the plush carpet will have to do for now. It's not that bad either. Not with her legs tangled with his and his hands securing her too him.

* * *

She doesn't realise that she's fallen asleep until the pantry door bursts open early the next morning and a frantic yet hungover Johanna appears.

"She's here!" she calls over her shoulder. "She's fine."

"What the-" Peeta croaks, pushing himself upright and looking at Katniss, his hair stuck up all in all directions. She blushes and looks away, remembering the kiss.

"Christ, Brainless. We thought you'd run off. We called Haymitch but he didn't answer. We called you but you left your phone with Madge," Johanna gives her an exasperated smile, glancing at Peeta and then back at Katniss, giving her a look that says _what the hell is going on?_

"I'm okay, Jo."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Are you alright?" Peeta asks. Katniss smiles at him. His hair is so endearingly ruffled, it hard to believe that it is his natural bed hair and not styled in any way.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He looks away, fidgeting. "I don't know. I just-"

"I'm hungover. Nothing I can't handle," she says, straightening the collar of his shirt.

"I'll leave you two to your own devices," Johanna snorts. "Brainless, we're leaving in five if you want a ride."

"Alright, thanks Jo," she murmurs. The pantry door closes.

"About last night…" Peeta starts, and she takes his hand, twining her fingers with his.

"It's okay."

"Wh- Really?" he stutters, his eyes brightening.

"I kissed you back, right?" she says in a hushed tone, as if it's some deadly secret. Peeta grins and kisses her, and she proves her point.

LINE

They pick their way through the aftermath of the party. There are still a few people passed out on couches or the floor. The cool morning air feels refreshing against her flushed skin when they step outside. Gale is carrying Madge to Johanna's car, and Darius is already smoking a cigarette in the passenger seat. Katniss turns to Peeta.

"How are you getting home?" she asks him.

"I'll figure something out."

"Call me?"

"Definitely." Peeta tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Johanna honks her car horn impatiently. Katniss ignores her and stands up on her tiptoes to kiss Peeta. A hand on her neck holds her close. She grips his belt loops.

"I better go before Johanna kills me," she says against his mouth.

"I wouldn't want that," he murmurs, kissing her once more. Katniss ducks away and climbs into the car, unable to fight the smile on her face even when Gale interrogates her, asking if he needs to give Mellark a piece of his mind.

"Did you _see_ her?" Johanna asks, her eyes wide. "I'm pretty sure she can handle him by herself."

And then they pulled out into the road and shot down the street, everyone in the vehicle ready to go home and sleep off their hangovers. Katniss fished her phone out of Madge's purse as they reached the crossroads. There was already a text from Peeta.

**Peeta: **_I'm going to take you out on a real date. Something fancier than carpet and Oreos._

She type back a quick response, fully aware of the stupid smile on her face.

**Katniss: **_I'll allow it. _


End file.
